Little Hatter's Halloween
by millennium-night
Summary: Jervis Tetch aka The Mad Hatter remembers a Halloween day in his early youth - the day he met a certain person for the first time...


_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the mentioned characters. This was purely written for fun._

My first story here =D

As regards the style of writing, I was inspired by Poe's Tell Tale Heart.

This story is written in Jervis's POV. Enjoy reading :)

Halloween.

I remember it having been one of my favourite festivities when I was a child. It always was the perfect excuse for me to dress up as my favourite charismatic Carroll character.

My mother had sewed the perfect costume for me - which was during a time when she still supported my extraordinary interest in literature, of course. Later, she thought I became a _little_, a _tiny little _bit too… _obsessive_, which I am not, oh, no, no, no - remember! But this is not the story I intend to tell you today - let me think… ah!

So there I stood, in front of a mirror twice my small size, and proudly observed my spectacular suit. Oh, it had such lovely details, blue buttons firmly attached to green fabric, a neat little pocket on the left hand side displaying a decorative white piece of cloth. And the hat, it was the first one I fell in love with, so to speak. I daresay it looked quite similar to the one I wear today, look! Oops, I should not have said that aloud, I don't want my beloved hat to be jealous, ha ha!

Not funny you say? Okay, okay, you are more impatient than the White Rabbit, I say! No need to worry, I'll continue at once.

My mother tied a bow around my shirt's collar - she said it was the icing on the cake and that I looked adorable and that it had the same deep blue as it is reflected in my eyes and things the like… well, how should she have known that a hat generally is an accessory of far greater importance? I showed her my best happy Cheshire grin to override her mistake.

Whatever, she finally gave me a nice pumpkin-shaped bag to collect the sweeties I would receive that evening. Oh, you should have seen how many people I manipulated that day - it seems even more wondrous when I tell you that I didn't need a single mind control card to do it, yet I have to admit it would have been so much easier if I had used one. Of course I didn't possess one at that time since I was far too young, just to put it straight.

Instead my childlike charm proved to be helpful which resulted in a pumpkin full of deliciousness. Always treat, never trick they chose!

And where the prey is - can you guess it?- there are _Bandersnatches_ as well.

On my way home I felt watched, followed, _threatened_. I still remember how dreadfully nervous I felt, considering I was a little child and I had walked further away from our house than I was allowed to.

My anxiety was not without reason as I actually saw someone when I turned around, a dark figure standing only a few inches away from my slightly shocked self.

Did I mention I found myself being close to a graveyard's gate while it happened? No? Oh rubbish, don't you look at me like this! I am not trying to increase the tension, believe me, it is the truth!

I'll continue my story, listen! I was not able to see my opposite clearly first since my hat was a little too big for a child's head - usually a hat can never be too large, mind you - and consequently, it covered half of my view.

Not until I adjusted it I recognized that the stranger was a boy about my age - it was hard to tell since he wore a simple self-made Halloween mask - though taller by a head. This was nothing unusual, I've always been smaller than others (_and I still am_).

The boy wore a costume, too, and he carried a bag for sweets as well. He didn't speak, move or _breath_ - so it seemed to me - not even when I, curious as I am, asked him what he wanted. This and the fact that the daggers of his eyes followed every single one of my movements began to frighten me. Eventually I noticed the major difference between us: his bag, in contrast to mine, was _empty_.

And as I looked up and as my eyes met his gaze I knew. I knew that he knew it, too, and he knew that I knew of his knowledge. Uh! Confusing, isn't it?

"Gimme your pumpkin bag, shorty," he said coldly - this _Jabberwock_! Why hadn't he gone trick-or-treating that evening? After all, it was not my fault that his bag was still empty! However, this was not what I was thinking at that moment - instead, I politely corrected him. "For you it's the Mad Hatter," I told him, not without a sharpened tone in my voice. Oh, I shouldn't have done that, it had not been a clever move to make the sinister stranger angry.

He seemed affronted, surely he had not expected to meet opposition in the small boy I had been! You know, people constantly tend to… _underestimate_ me which is a fatal fallacy, believe me…

He was the first to take action: A wrangling over the sweets started. What unexpected strength his lanky limbs possessed! - it caught me by surprise yet I somehow managed to keep my pumpkin bag away from his claws.

Our fight abruptly ended when we - not paying attention to our environment in the tumult of battle - clattered down the stairs. What? Are you sure I didn't mention the stairs before? Very well, but there _were_ stairs nonetheless.

Fortunately, the thick fabric of my suit had absorbed the shock and had prevented me from harm. The stranger had not been that lucky, how should he have been? His thin burlap costume had surely caused more scratches on his skin than it could ever have prevented.

The boy slowly picked himself up and remained in a seating position while I picked up my sweets which lay all over the ground. As soon as had finished I followed his example and sat down on the stairs next to him, keeping a safe distance. For some reason I didn't go away, I can't remember why.

Again he didn't move or say anything, but this time it couldn't frighten me.

Perhaps it was his tranquillity, or rather his slumped posture?

Whatever, I dared a look at his face after a while. It had been a short one, only a tiny little glimpse - but it had been enough to see his sadness. He looked hurt and seemed to choke back his tears.

People often say the eyes are a window to the soul - it's true, you know? I've witnessed it many times… What? I am definitely not telling you whether I was referring to a certain Ms. Pleasance! It's none of your business, so watch your tongue!

Oh, I apologize for such a rude behaviour. Well, let's just forget this little incident and I'll continue my story.

What I saw in his eyes aroused pity. I truly felt sorry for him, so I decided to offer him some of my sweets to make him feel better. First he watched me with distrust, then he finally took a delicious chocolate bar with a quick, sudden motion of his hand. He ate it silently but with a great desire as if he hadn't eaten chocolate for years! It made me happy to see his grateful face, so I stayed and shared the whole content of my pumpkin bag with him.

"Thank you," the boy said eventually and smiled - have you ever seen him smile, I mean _really_ smile and not smirk? It's a difference like day and night! He does it so rarely!

You might ask why I gave him my sweets after I had bothered to defended them. The answer is simple: He hadn't _asked_ for them! Look, I'm usually a kind and polite individual and if you give me a cup, I'll offer you some tea. No, that was not supposed to be taken literally! Now listen:

We even had a conversation about bits and pieces, and while he asked me about my costume and my affection to the worshipful Lewis Carroll, I wanted to know why he had chosen a scarecrow to dress up as. "Oh, that! My granny hates Halloween. Thus, I had to improvise to find a costume and so I spontaneously borrowed the clothes of the scarecrow on one of our fields," was what he replied. Thinking of it, I sometimes wonder whether it had already been a forgone conclusion that he would once become the Scarecrow at that time…

I didn't ask him for his name on that particular day for an unknown reason. Neither did I recognise him first when we met again about twenty years later in Arkham. It took me a great amount of time to remember this occurrence and oddly enough, he keeps claiming not to be able to recall that it ever happened. Maybe the Scarecrow is the one behind it? I'll never know.

Now you learned how Jonathan and I met for the very first time. But don't tell him - he gets angry when he finds out I shared the story with someone else.


End file.
